


Poison

by itsidhrenniel



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Light Angst, Light Sub/Dom, Oral, Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Submissive Tommy Shelby, public blow-jobs, sub/dom, tommy shelby smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-11-01 22:29:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20528507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsidhrenniel/pseuds/itsidhrenniel
Summary: Tommy knows she'll be the end of him, but the heart wants what it wants.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> For requests, inquires or just chatting, find me on Tumblr! ( @idhrenniel ).

Thomas was still a kid when he realized he wanted to get married to her, and that desire had not subsided as he grew into a man. His heart might have belonged to others in that time, he might had slept with countless of women, but his mind and soul were hers. And she knew. It was something she took advantage of more often that not, and although Thomas knew that no part of her loved him back - he even doubted she was able to love sometimes, there was no changing it. She had bewitched him and he danced around her fingers in whatever tune pleased her. It was a life he was content with, no matter how much it hurt.

Pol had tried to reason with him enough times for him to lose count, even Arthur had tried to put some sense into him. Nothing worked because he wasn’t blind; he had seen the marks other men leave on her when she’s in his bed, had heard the people whispering about them. He had seen her leaving with men as she gave him a kiss and a smile to pass the night.

She was a poison he had become addicted to, so when she left Small Heath he almost died. It was his desperation for touching her that made him irascible, Thomas woke up missing her kisses and her laugh, even the pain she inflicted on him with her adulterous life. He went from one to another, as if he could replace her. As if she wasn’t the one in his mind when he emptied himself in someone else.

And then one morning, she wasn’t in his mind. It was a few weeks after he and Greta started to take their relationship serious. His siblings and Pol loved Greta, and although it was a bit soon for him to know, he did believe he could love her as well. But he was soon met with the truth. Love her? Could be. Worship her? Never.

Thomas learnt his lesson that night in the canal, when he was waiting for Greta but it was a different voice that made it to his ears. Just the sound of her voice and he was trembling.

“Isn’t it cold to be outside tonight, Tom?” Tom, he wanted to laugh. No one ever called him that, just her. It was special, somehow. In her twisted mind, it sure was.

He didn’t turn around until she was right next to him, in that moment he couldn’t stop himself. It had been seven months since the last time he saw her - she looked the same, a goddess. She had her hair down, making Tommy fight the urge to run his fingers through it. Her face was a bit red because of the cold, but stunning nonetheless. As she turned around to look at him, Thomas let out a shaky breath that caused her to smile. It was witchcraft, his mother had once told him: how she was able to be a different person through her eyes. Innocent if she was talking to Pol, daring if it was Arthur, dark and promising if it was Tommy.

“No,” Thomas said at last, after gaining enough courage. It made her chuckle.

She got closer to him, their lips were almost touching and her naked hand had found home in his hair. “I am.” It was a low whisper, but to him she was shouting. He bit his lip, thinking.

Greta didn’t cross his mind for a second. Not as he connected their lips, or as he wrapped his arm around her waist to bring her as close to him as it was possible. Not when he felt her smile against his lips and he growled out of frustration because he was hers but she wasn’t his. Perhaps he’d think of her in the morning. But not in that moment.

Thomas pressed her against the rail, lifted up her skirt and then pressed himself against her. She could feel his growing erection through the fabric of his trousers and didn’t bother to hide her amusement as her hand grabbed it. Tommy hissed as his lips moved down to her neck and sucked, bit and kissed the exposed skin. He wanted to mark her as men had done before in an useless attempt to claim her as theirs. At least she’d remember him, he thought.

“Oh, Thomas-” she moaned against his ear. “I’ve missed you.” And there was no trace of lies in her voice as she said it, which made Tommy look up at her and kiss her. Those weren’t the words he wanted to hear, the ones he had been begging for since he was a kid - but it was far more than he had ever received and he held onto them as a drunk does to a bottle.

Thomas grabbed her hair and forced her to look at him. “Don’t leave me again.” He sounded controlled, so sure of himself, but she saw right through it and into the mess that his heart and mind were. Without words, she gave him an answer. As her hands found his belt and she grabbed it, pushing him towards her. She undid his trousers, then used her legs to lower them down to his knees. He felt her hand once again against him, this time as she took his cock and scratched it with her nails. A shameless moan left Tommy’s throat. She had spoken enough, he could have her or he could let her go.

He entered her in a swift, hard motion.

Fucking in a public area, against a rail was, well - wasn’t the most comfortable thing ever. He had to grab her so she wouldn’t fall back into the river- and in return she dig her nails on his neck and scalp, looking at him with a knowing smile dancing around her lips. She bounced up and down his cock in such a natural, effortless way one might think that’s where she belonged. She felt like heaven against him, her fluids going down his thigh, wetting his pubic hair everytime he thrusted inside her. Even the sound it made got him harder. She pressed him against her chest, that Tommy had previously uncovered to mark. He breathed against her skin, warming it up. She sure as hell wasn’t cold now, was she? Tommy thought with a chuckle as he thrusted into her once again, his free hand colliding against her ass cheek at the same time. She let out a high-pitched scream that soon turned into laughter, throwing her head back she contracted her walls against his cock and moaned his name out loud.

At this point, Thomas was a panting mess, but she wasn’t better. She was in his ear, asking - begging him to cum inside her.  _ Be good for me _ , she had whispered, biting his earlobe after. She loved to be in control, even if he was the one with the cock he’d kneel and eat her out in church if she fucking asked for it. All she ever had to do was ask for it. Thomas’s thrusts were getting sloppier, and to make up for it he brought his hand against her clit and moved his fingers fast and hard, like he knew she liked it. The more painful it was for her to walk after, the better. He bit down on her chest, his eyes looking up at her through his lashes. She caressed his face and combed her fingers through his hair and nodded, then his name left her lips like a prayer and that’s all it took for Tommy to cum. His hot seed milked her walls. He kept on thrusting until she told him to stop. Both of them hissed as he took his cock out.

Some of their cum had gone down her thighs, he was going to offer a napkin when she took it in her fingers and licked it off of them. The sight got him hard again.

She looked down and saw, chuckling. “Let me take care of that, Tom.” He nodded.

Kneeling before him, she opened her mouth, taking him all in one swift motion. She moaned around his cock and he had to support himself on the rail. He hissed and moaned and asked for more - he was still sensitive from his previous release but he wasn’t going to miss the chance of feeling her mouth. She sucked on it while her hand fondled his balls, scratching as she did so. Even on his cock, she let her teeth roam his length before taking him in again. When his cock was against her lips, she pressed her tongue against the tip, but he loved it best when he was deep inside her and she closed her throat to add pressure. She moaned in that moment as well, sending vibrations all over him. Thomas couldn’t stop himself when he grabbed her hair, his hips moving forward on his own. He had expected to get mad, after all she was the one leading, but all she did was grab his hips with her free hand and bob her head in sync with him, repeating her movements until he spilled his seed on her throat. She looked up at him through watered eyes; her lips in a playful smile as his semen ran down her chin and neck, falling into her chest. She opened her mouth to show him he was still in her mouth, then swallowed all of it. What was left on her face she licked. Then, she got up.

Her head was tilted. “Help clean this up, will you? Can’t go around looking like this.”

Tommy didn’t need to be told twice: in a instant he was licking and sucking his own seed from her neck and chest until all that glistened was his saliva.

In the aftermath, Tommy realised his actions. Still wasn’t enough to make him regret them. He leaned against the rail, lighting up a cigarette. His clothes were disheveled, but at least his cock was back in his trousers. She had just finished fixing her skirt when she spoke.

“That was fun. Goodnight, Tom.” He felt a kiss against his cheek and saw her leaving.

She was gone again the next morning, it made him wonder if he had just dreamed it. But the marks she had left on his skin reminded him it had been real, the encounter, at least. He had to avoid Pol and Greta for a few weeks. Everything returned to normal after that.

Tommy still slept with Greta and planned a future with her, while thinking of (Y/N) and hoping that one day she’d win against her demons and came back to him, this time to stay forever.


	2. II

She had a gift. A gift to reappear in the less convenient of times.

It was the morning of Thomas’s wedding, his goddam wedding. He didn’t know what got into him but he found himself going to church. It felt strange to be there, after so long, with the intention of confessing. But he went nonetheless. That’s when he saw her.

He couldn’t believe himself at first. Last time was that night at the canal, a decade ago. Ever since, all he had known of her had been the gossips. It was said she had married a rich businessman from Wales and that she had had a child, however he knew better than to trust people’s words. When he approached her and sat besides her, he knew she wasn’t a dream.

“Never thought I’d find you here.” He said. It made her laugh.

Thomas hated himself. Grace was at home, getting into her wedding dress. Her relatives in town as well, excited for the big moment. Yet all he wanted was to throw (Y/N) on the floor and take her until she cried his name. What the fuck was wrong with him?

She let out a sigh before sitting back, turning her head to look at him. “I’m praying for my late husband, so he doesn’t get lost on his way to hell.”

He couldn’t remember the last time his laugh was so real and free, but it felt good. Her smile also felt sincere, unlike the ones one would expect to see from her. Something about her had changed and a spark of hope ignited in Thomas’s chest. However, as bad as he felt about it- given the fact that he was promised to another and supposed to tie the knot in a few hours, it also felt like a sip of water after a decade of thirst. And fucking hell, he had been thirsty.

“Ya got married, I heard. Had a little one too, eh?” She shook her head. No.

Thomas saw her throat going up and down before she spoke. He noticed how she got tense. “Got married, aye. A bastard, few years older than me. Sadly he passed away-” her tone as she told him about her husband’s death was more than enough for him to know that age was not what killed him, “-but he put no little bastard in me.” (Y/N)’s hand combed through the top of his head. A smile on her lips. “You?”

He wanted to tell her the truth. “No.” But he didn't. It wasn’t because he didn’t love Grace, he was almost one hundred percent sure he did, but he loved (Y/N) more. Thomas couldn’t stop himself nor his feelings, as much as he had tried to for the longest time.

She raised a brow, giving him a chance to be honest. Nothing she hated more than a liar, he remembered with a sigh. He looked forward. “Engaged. No children.”

“Does it feel good?” (Y/N) said, climbing up Thomas’s lap and getting comfortable. Leaning in she grazed his lips before moving to his ear. “Being inside her, does it feel good?” Thomas swallowed, fighting the urge to grab her hips. “Does it feel the same, huh? When she calls your name, when she kisses you, or do you think of me? Tell me, Tom.”

Thomas couldn’t speak. He had tried to forget her for so long… First Greta and Lizzie, then Grace. Still, it wasn’t enough to get rid of her- the feeling of her nails scratching his skin as she drove him over the edge, the smell of her perfume in the morning. Fucking hell, he even remembered how she liked her tea. It was ridiculous. But she kept the game on and he kept on showing her his losing hand, becoming a trembling mess under her touch. She won, not in that moment, no: she won long ago, the first time she had him in her bed and allowed him to keep going back- this was one of the reasons he believed he was special to her, (Y/N) had rules about repeating men, but with Thomas she had made an exception. She welcomed him into her bed numerous times before she herself went to his, then kept on appearing to visit him. Perhaps Thomas was sore about losing the game, that his mind still thought she’d chose him if he kept following her rules. But following the rules was what made him lose in the first place. She raised up victorious, his broken heart under her.

And still, he was willing to let her crumble it once again if it meant feeling her close to him. A sick bastard, that’s what he was. A sick, obsessed bastard who couldn’t let go. She loved it.

“No,” he spoke. It was a low whisper, she almost couldn't hear it. She didn’t need to, though. He answered when he grabbed her hips and pushed her down against his crotch. It wasn’t a lie- it wasn’t the same. Grace was spectacular, Thomas loved her. Didn’t mean she stood a chance against (Y/N). No one could. “It doesn’t. She doesn’t.” He sounded quite desperate, his mouth searching for hers in the dim light of the Church.

(Y/N) grabbed his face, then kissed him. She spoke against his lips: “good.”

Thomas tried to unknot her dress, but it seemed to be quite complicated and decided to tear it apart instead. It made her gasp, a soft laugh leaving her lips afterwards. She returned to his mouth, her hands working on his belt and trousers once she had gotten rid of his vest and shirt. She roamed his torso, digging her nails just enough to make him sigh in pleasure. It never ceased to amaze her how a man as powerful and prideful as Thomas could become so obedient under her - perhaps that’s the reason she kept returning to him. He was hard, the sight of his cock made her mouth water but she had other plans in mind. She sat next to him, opening her legs and leaning back, getting as comfortable as it was possible given their location. Thomas kneeled, moving between her legs. He grabbed them and rested them on his shoulders. He heard her sigh before he dipped in, his mouth working on her lips and clit at a fast pace. It was difficult to contain the moans, but the sacred ground had been stained the moment their first kiss was shared, so neither Thomas nor (Y/N) cared about being seen. She grabbed the hair at the top of his head, tugging at it - a gentle tug at first, but as his lips progressed and her abdomen tightened so did her hold. She pushed her hips up at the time her hand pressed his face against her womanhood.

It was an involuntary reaction, truly. One thing Tommy had gotten used from fucking her was that, no matter what, she had to be the one in control. She could be in her knees, sucking him out while riding her own fingers and still be the one in charge. It felt safer like that to her and Thomas- and every other man she had ever slept with, had always respected it. So, when she pushed him against her- something she had done countless of times before, and his hands went up against her flesh to push her back down, it wasn’t something he wanted to do, but a reaction born from his survival instinct. When Thomas realized what he had just done, he straightened his back and looked at her with an apologizing gaze, but she spoke before he even had the chance to form a thought.

“Fuck Thomas, I didn’t mean to-” she stuttered. She sat straight, her hands found his face as she grabbed it with care, caressing his cheekbones, “-didn’t mean to force it. I’m sorry.” Her smile almost made it all disappear, but something still bugged him in the back of his mind.

She wasn’t stupid, she knew that the man who had come back from the war wasn’t the same one she left on that canal a decade ago. Thomas used to like dance around her tune, both in and out of the bedroom. Before he even went down on her, she could tell he was not the man he used to be, the man that would let her be the dominant one, pushing and controlling him. War had changed him, the scars no one but him could see had damaged the trusting part of him. If he wasn’t in control he was in danger. She understood that. She respected it.

Which made Thomas feel safe, but also concerned. What happened to her, to make her understand his pain? Who scared her like that? He wanted to kill them.

Thomas covered her mouth to silence her, however the scream she let out after being picked up all of a sudden could still be heard. Now, she was on top of him once again and he sat, relaxed and carefree, on the bench. His cock rubbing against her thigh. Thomas brought his hand to her face, brushing some loose hair back. He had leaned in until he could touch her lips and pressed them against hers. Thomas wanted to protect her. She would never let him.

“Go ahead.” He said when their lips separated. (Y/N) looked at him perplexed. Sure, she did know Thomas wanted to have some control over the encounter, she could allow that - it was the sudden warmth in her abdomen that surprised her. “Ride me. Or don’t. Your choice.”

Damn that man, she thought. He almost was as good at reading people at he believed to be. Yet he kept losing on a game she didn’t even follow along. Sighing, she grabbed his cock, moved up so the tip would be against her entrance and, looking at him the entire time, she started to descend upon his cock. She bit down her lower lip, savouring the moment. Tom’s cock was the best she’d had - and she’d had quite a lot. Or perhaps she just liked him better than the rest. Who knew, she wouldn’t bother finding an answer to that question.

As she went up and down, Thomas wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her chest. He put his arms around her, thinking that’s where he belonged, and he never wanted to leave. Spending the rest of his life on her arms, that was a dream. A beautiful one, but a dream nonetheless. And that voice in the back of his head, the one that tried to keep him grounded, it was silent, because all he could hear was her moaning his name, the sound of her wet cunt against his skin and her ragged breath. It was the most beautiful song he’d ever listen to, forever engraved in his memories so he could return home in times of need. Oh, she was going to be the end of him, eh? But what a pleasant end, Thomas thought. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Don’t leave me. Not again.” He found himself pleading. She ignored his request.

Her mouth felt forceful against his but he welcomed it with a moan. Thomas felt her walls tightening around his cock, that was about to explode. He put his fingers against her mouth and she opened it with a smile, sucking on them just as good as she would his cock. When his fingers were wet enough to not hurt her (not that she would mind some pain) he rubbed them against her clit, causing her to groan. It must’ve been a hundred degrees in there, or at least that’s how he felt it. Her skin was wet, he also had sweat and blood running down him. Her beautiful hair was now a mess, but her smile remained sinful and promising. He wanted to cum inside her, perhaps if she had his child she would remain there with him.

“Can I?” (Y/N) asked him, her hand close to his throat. Thomas nodded, but that didn’t seem to be enough for her to he agreed out loud. She pressed her hand against his throat, enough that he’d feel it but not enough to cause an instinctive reaction. He moaned at the feeling, his free hand slapping her ass as hard as he could.

It wasn’t long until she came undone, moaning his name for the whole town to hear. Fuck, he wanted them to hear it. He wanted them, up until the last bastard out there to know it was him she went back to, it was him she had a soft spot for. It was him, him… that’s what his mind told him as he thrusted his hips up once more, cumming inside her. Thomas didn’t stop until both their orgasm had subsided and she winced, moving to sit besides him again. Their clothes were all over the floor- hers torn apart, and the bench was wet with sweat and cum. It was a sight he never wanted to forget.

Thomas lighted up a cigarette, offering her one but she denied it, thanking him. She put her dress over her head, making it as presentable as possible before she moved on to straighten her hair and fixing her makeup. He was still naked, sitting on the bench and looking at her.

Words flew through his mouth before he could stop them: “please, don’t do it.” He was being so weak, it made her feel bad. No self-confidence, no pride whatsoever. This wasn’t the man she knew he was, but it was the man she made him be.

She gave him one more kiss and a smile. That would have to suffice. “Until next time, Tom.” Her words felt like a knife to the heart that was killing him and bringing him back to live at the same time.

“Until next time,” he replied, accepting his defeat. As she walked from him, again, she didn’t see the tears that run down his face.

This was their game and once again she had won another match. The winner takes it all: his heart, his pride and whatever honour was left in him. And he was left standing there next to a pool of cum, getting married in a few hours... waiting for the next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second and final part of Poison! Perhaps some more will come in the future, but I'm done for now. Follow me on Twitter ( @itsidhrenniel ) to learn about updates, new stories and more! Thanks for reading!


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